


Travel Companions

by Daegaer



Series: Travel Companions [1]
Category: Saiyuki, Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Crossover, Humor, M/M, Monks, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-19
Updated: 2007-04-19
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2197569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanzo has idiots of his own, he doesn't need new ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Travel Companions

Sanzo glared down into his beer and ignored the man beside him. The only American exports he cared about were cigarettes and beer. He preferred to get his demon hunters on the domestic market.

"My men can offer you quite an advantage over your opponents," the man said, in his superior, smug voice.

"I don't think so," Sanzo said in irritation. He went on before the man could say anything. "I've _seen_ your men in action. If I want things thrown around by invisible forces, I have my driver. If I want a smart-mouthed redhead, I have one already – and the only thing the goddam youkai ever think is _Kill! Kill! Food!_ so I don't actually need an insight into their mental state. And for senseless violence, I have the monkey." He stubbed out his cigarette and lit another.

"You don't have anyone who can see the future," the man said.

"I know how my future goes," Sanzo muttered. "Look –"

"Crawford," the man said patiently.

"Crawford. It's enough of a pain in the ass working with the idiots I already have. I don't need you."

Crawford took a long swallow of his beer, and helped himself to one of Sanzo's cigarettes. Sheer reflex brought Sanzo's fan down in a stinging blow, like Crawford was one of his fools. Sanzo blinked. He'd missed. He never missed.

"It's useful, seeing the future," Crawford said calmly. "I don't get hit by bullets, either." He lit the cigarette and blew smoke towards the ceiling. "I strongly urge you to reconsider. One could say we're on the same side, when it comes to demons. You think those bastards in India are the only ones working on raising Gyumaoh? They have help. You might think about getting someone in who could counter that help."

"What help?" Sanzo grated.

Crawford shrugged. "The people we used to work for. They're keen on raising demons. We stopped them once. We can do it again."

Sanzo took a drag on his cigarette. "You," he said, "Are lying."

"Not about everything," Crawford said calmly.

Sanzo shoved his gun in his face. "Didn't see that coming, did you?" he said. Crawford didn't say anything. Then he leaned forward and took the gun in his mouth. _Go ahead_ , his expression said. _Get rid of me and my information._ His lips did . . . other things. Sanzo grimaced in disgust. "Pervert," he muttered. Crawford bent his head, taking as much of the barrel into his mouth as he could, his eyes amused behind the weirdly reflective glasses. "Don't tempt me," Sanzo said, and, as Crawford looked more amused than ever, tightened his finger on the trigger. Crawford sat back, fast.

"You wouldn't have," he said, and wiped the gun oil off his lips.

"You really don't know me," Sanzo said.

"But I _do_ know the future." Crawford looked at him, steady, all traces of amusement gone. "We can help you. We don't want any demon kings raised, any more than you. It's on our way; we're heading west one way or the other. Even if you don't want our help at the end, we both get the advantage of extra fighters till we get to India."

Sanzo turned away, looking at the idiots in his care, and Crawford's idiots, demarcating careful territories on the table they uneasily shared. He should say no. He'd said no at the last four inns. He'd frowned at these fools helping his people, and sighed at his people returning the favour. He dreaded the noise levels if he let Gojyo and Crawford's loudmouth redhead really get started. Still, the gods sent whom they sent, and Kanzeon Botsatsu's sense of humour was permanently set to PMS.

"I'm in charge," he said. "I _don't_ take orders."

"I can be . . . flexible," Crawford smiled, and licked away the last trace of oil.

"Pervert," Sanzo snapped. "And this inn's going on _your_ card."

"The kappa pays for his own beer," Crawford said quickly.

" . . . yeah."

"We have a deal?"

Sanzo glared up towards Heaven. He bet _everyone_ could hear the laughter.

"We have a deal."


End file.
